A Rebel's Love
by jaxon22
Summary: Set during Edward's rebellion against Carlisle. Tired of denying who he is Edward decides to kill people to satisfy his thirst, saving young girls in alley ways! Rated M for future chapters.ON HOLD
1. Chapter 1

**This is a story I had an idea for a while ago. It's set during the time that Edward rebels against Carlisle's idea of what a vampire should be, about 10 years after he was changed.**

**Edward's character is obviously very dark and depressed (and weirdly was great fun to write!!) for obvious reasons so go easy on him. (And me?)**

**Rated M for later chapters.**

**If it gets enough reviews I will continue it but for now I give you chapter 1…**

**A Rebel's Love**

**Chapter One: Denial**

**EPOV**

It was midnight.

Again.

Of the many constants in my life, time was the one that got to me the most. Time. An invisible concept only truly indicated for me now by the rising and setting of the sun.

As a human I had found it an inconsequential thing to suddenly feel tired or fatigued from the daily rigours of life and so retire to bed to rest my body through sleep, waking as the sun hit the pillow next to my head. Although my human memories were vague, that was the one that stood out more than the rest, more than my mother's face or the sound of her voice.

This fact had, more recently, begun to irritate me to the point of distraction.

Why would something so trivial remain embedded so solidly in my head when what I really wanted was to recollect the shape of my mother's eyes when she smiled, or what she would cook me for breakfast or how she looked after me when I hurt myself?

I rubbed my hand through my hair in exasperation.

I smiled wryly to myself as I realised that that was one personality trait that had definitely accompanied me into this nightmare; my tendency to obsess and standing here silently, alone in the park, looking out over the lake, feeling the Chicago snow dampen my coat, it was easy to get carried away by it.

10 years ago I had my whole life ahead of me. A life that would, at that point, be spent serving my country in the war that was raging during my seventeenth year. To come home with honour to proud parents, to find a girl that would love me and have me forever, who I'd love back just as much, who I'd grow old with, after our children had grown up and had families of their own.

They were simple dreams, but they were _my_ dreams.

That was before the disease struck. Before the influenza permeated mine and my family's lungs and shattered all the dreams and plans we had ever dared to make. The suffocating sensation that enveloped my body seemed to last forever, every breath was like running through wet concrete, gradually becoming harder and harder. Until, just as the darkness started to overwhelm me completely, there was a flash of the most intense heat and pain that seared through my body with such force I thought I would split in two.

My veins seemed to be set alight, my blood turning to molten lava but, unlike a volcano, it never erupted, simply bubbling and boiling beneath the surface of my skin, twisting and snaking deep into me, never becoming less than a slow smoulder. I now know that it was only three days that I suffered this excruciating pain but at the time I would have said years, decades or millennia.

I sighed heavily pushing the memory of my burning as far down as I could, broken from my reverie by the laughter and lustful thoughts of a young couple, walking hand in hand passed the lake. They hadn't noticed me, too caught up in each other to care about a solitary, brooding vampire. A vampire whose muscles had begun to tense as venom crept into his mouth, triggered by the scent of the blood that pumped relentlessly through the veins of the love sick couple.

I had to leave before the pull of their blood ruined me completely. Before I became the animal that I had been told to suppress since the day I awoke from my bed of cinders and saw the world through blood thirsty eyes. I squared my shoulders, tucked my hands in my pockets and set off for home.

* * * *

I always tried to walk around the city at night when there were fewer bodies around. The first reason was fairly obvious, bodies meant blood and blood meant temptation. The second reason was that it was quieter in my head, no thoughts to bombard my brain with internal inane and banal chatter. And, just recently, I had required silence, or at the very least quiet, more and more.

I entered the house quietly, knowing however that my presence would have been detected as far back as two blocks. I hung up my jacket and headed for the stairs.

_Edward?_

It had been difficult at first to differentiate between words that were said out loud and the voices that never left people's mouths. I'd worked hard on noting the difference in tone or volume, only to find that the thoughts of people were almost always as loud as if they'd spoken to me directly. I'd become more accustomed however to the thoughts of the two people I was in the presence of the most; Carlisle and Esme.

It was Carlisle now who had caught my attention. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, looking at me with nothing but concern. I clenched my fists at my sides, frustration pummelling through my body. I looked from his face to the wall at the side of him, finding it almost impossible to meet his eyes. Guilt it most definitely wasn't. Anger? Maybe.

_Edward are you alright?_

He still didn't speak to me out loud. A part of me assumed that this was for my benefit, to help me get used to the sound of the thoughts of others, to help with my 'gift' as he put it so enthusiastically. But right now it didn't feel like a gift. It felt like another constant reminder of the fact that I wasn't normal; that I wasn't human. He'd told me to embrace it, when I'd first discovered it, I almost laughed at the thought of that now.

Embrace it? I could hardly conceive of it!

'I'm fine,' I replied taking two stairs at a time to my room and slamming my door behind me. I walked to my record player and slipped on a classical LP, throwing myself onto my couch, hands behind my head. The music helped in drowning out the unwelcome voices, external and internal, that would creep under the windows at night from the people passing on the streets below.

It didn't however drown out the stream of thoughts coming from the bottom of the stairs. Thoughts drenched in anxiety, desperation and more infuriating than anything, love. Carlisle was, for all intents and purposes, my father. He was the kindest, most honest and trustworthy person I knew. It was a rare occurrence for any of Carlisle's thoughts to contradict anything that he said out loud and I knew, from both, that he was concerned.

And he reason to be.

When I had awoken from the burning, his had been the first face that I saw. He had comforted me over the loss of my parents, even though their faces had already begun to fade with every other human instinct that I had possessed. He had explained what he had done, what I had become and he had apologised for his actions; profusely. And I had accepted it all, for the most part, even the part about my now being a vampire. The un-dead. Never changing, forever frozen and I had the cold, hard skin to prove it.

The thirst when I was first 'born' was like nothing I'd ever experienced. A dry, rough, burning sensation that could only be likened to sitting in the dessert for days with no water after your throat had been rubbed with sand paper and even then that sounded like an easier option. I craved, yearned and lusted after the one thing that could quench the arid canal that my throat had become. And it sickened me.

Carlisle had explained, numerous times, that there was an alternative to the disgusting animal that my body suddenly desired to be. To not take human life, to live as normal a life as was possible for our kind. It amused me now that he had had the audacity to say the word normal in the same sentence as when he talked about our way of life. There was nothing normal about any of it. I felt the flicks of anger brush my face once again.

He had helped me, with the patience of a saint, to suppress my inner demons. Showing me how to hunt animals instead of people. To pick the carnivores over the herbivores in an attempt to fool my body into thinking that it wasn't being cheated out of its true needs. And it had quenched the thirst initially. But over time it has gotten harder.

It was still _so_ hard.

The restrain it took to walk amongst humans, whilst hearing, seeing and tasting their blood pumping around their bodies was so draining that I thought I would never be able to leave the house again. As a vampire it was impossible to get exhausted in the human sense, but mentally the fatigue was just the same. On top of the voices that literally battered my head, it wasn't long before I felt like I was going insane.

Carlisle continued in his quest to make me see his vision for us. He even joked about how we were 'vegetarians', rebels even, going against the grain of what we are. I was willing to continue reining myself and my blood lust in, as hard as it was, as it was painfully obvious that we only had each other, we were each others family. No-one else could understand what it was like for us and I wanted to do my best for Carlisle. Make him proud of me.

And then Esme arrived.

Dying in the hospital where he had found me not four years earlier, Esme was chosen by Carlisle, not saved you understand, chosen. Like he had chosen me. Chosen to join him in this nightmare that was now my existence. I closed my eyes tightly, praying that I would fall asleep and wake up realising it was all just a horrendous nightmare. But sadly it didn't happen, of course not, silly Edward, vampires don't sleep – didn't you know that?

I grew to love Esme quickly and just like Carlisle was my father, she became the mother that I longed for. She was beautiful, patient and willing to learn from Carlisle. She never once seemed to waver in her vampire desires, or if she did she hid it well. Her thoughts were as clear as Carlisle's were, honest, non-judgemental and hopelessly in love with my father. They were the perfect match and it became fairly obvious as to the reasons he had picked her when he did.

I wasn't jealous, far from it, but I became increasingly aware of the fact that what Carlisle and Esme had was something that I wanted too. I wanted someone to be there for me in the ways that Carlisle and Esme couldn't. But that was impossible. It had crossed my mind to ask my father if he would consider changing the girl that I loved, if I ever found her. But I quickly extinguished the thought from my mind when I realised how disgusting and selfish that really sounded.

So here I was.

Alone in my room, listening to the record player turn and scratch as the music faded. Listening to my mother and father fret and question how they were going to help me out of the depression I had found myself spiralling into. But I realised, as I heard Esme creep from my bedroom door, that I didn't want their help or guidance. I wanted something more.

I had been told over and over again like a mantra to suppress what I was. To keep my inner, darker self locked up away from the surface, to disregard and fight against the shadows that lurked within me and this was what had got me so irate. Carlisle was forever using words like gift, grateful or content, but I knew that, right now, I was nowhere near believing any of them.

How could I possibly be content in the knowledge that I was denying myself, denying my basic instincts? How could he possibly preach about the gift I had when he was so ready to refuse its needs? How could he expect me to be grateful of my existence when all it consisted of was refutes and struggle?

I pulled my hands to my face, gripping at my skin, wanting to turn the pain I felt inside into a physical one, visible on the outside. I knew it was no good but I did it any way. My throat burned at the memory of the couple in the park, the sound of their pulse reverberating in my head, slamming against the inside of my head over and over, until I found myself on the floor clawing at the wood beneath my knees, venom spilling from my mouth.

I couldn't deny it anymore. The monster inside me was pacing against the fence of my now withered and crushed determination. Growling and roaring at me to give in, to do what I had to, to pacify his relentless thirst. My body tensed like a coiled spring and it seemed even before I thought it I was on my feet heading for the window.

_Edward, please. We love you._

The sound of Esme's desperate thoughts made me pause as my hand held up the glass pane. But it wasn't enough. I had made the choice. I had tried to live as Carlisle wanted me to and it hadn't worked. It was that simple. He wouldn't understand anyway, I thought, he was so much stronger than I was. And I wouldn't need his forgiveness. He had made me this way so he was as guilty as I was in the decisions I had started to make. He couldn't ask me to deny what I was any more.

With one last glance around the room I had begun to call my own I pushed the window open as far as it would go and leapt into the air. My feet were racing before they hit the pavement.

**So…what do you think?**

**I'd really like to continue with this as I have some really interesting ideas as to where it could go but I am essentially a crowd pleaser so please let me know.**

**I am a review whore so please leave one at the door!!**

**TTFN x x x x**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for the reviews, please keep 'em comin'!**

**The characters are the property of – my own personal hero!**

**Chapter 2: The First**

**EPOV**

I ran and ran, down streets, through alley ways, leaping over fences and walls.

My vampire body releasing all the tension it felt through my legs and feet pounding the snow covered asphalt, gravel and grass. The snow had become heavy, large flakes landing on my hair and clothes but struggling to cling on as I pushed myself to go faster.

I didn't know where I was going and truthfully I didn't care, I just knew that what I needed could not be found in the room, building or life I had just left. My body craved real sustenance and not the unsatisfactory provisions it had been subjected to over the past ten years.

I slowed slightly, thinking about what else I had left behind. Carlisle. Esme. My parents. I slowed further, feeling more of the snow softly caress my cold skin, feeling more of the slithers of guilt snaking its way through me. They loved me, they trusted me and I had left, with no word.

Maybe I was being impulsive? Maybe I was being selfish? Maybe it was just a blip that I would get over and continue down Carlisle's path to a 'normal' life with him and Esme?

But that was the point. It was always going to be Carlisle's path – not mine. I hadn't made any of my own choices since he made the ultimate one for me as I lay dying in the hospital bed he found me in. I hadn't chosen to become like this. I hadn't asked for this and deep down a part of me hated him for it. I stopped suddenly as the conflict of that one thought surged through me.

Could I really hate the man that had become my father? The man that had held me and soothed me through the earlier, much darker days of my birth? The man who had put all his faith in me to become the man, not vampire, the man that he thought I could be?

I clutched my chest as I felt the answer slide into my mind. Not through pain but through the shock and realisation of the word that I found there.

Yes. Yes I could hate him.

How could he turn me into this monster and then expect me to deny it? Cope with it? Essentially forget about it and carry on as if nothing was different. Expect me to live a 'normal' life. My hands slid to my sides and clenched into tight fists, pulling in on themselves hard enough to snap metal.

Enough was enough. I couldn't be what he wanted me to be, I wouldn't be what he wanted me to be. Following his path; even so much as enrolling in the same medical school to become Dr. Cullen II. Medical school had held some appeal to me initially but now it just felt forced and unnatural. Not unlike the feelings I felt towards myself.

I exhaled heavily and slumped to the floor. I realised looking around that I was back in the park where I had stood not 2 hours ago, an oak behind me and the lake not 10 feet to my left. The scene was quiet and still and I ached for it to make my mind and body feel the same. It was strange how this place seemed to pull me to it without me even realising.

The flakes came down white and silent and I watched as they settled on my hands, never melting, feeling at home against the hard arctic temperature of my skin. The city seemed calmer, eased by the blanket of thick snow that lay, in many parts undisturbed. I sat with my knees pulled up and my arms resting on them, my head hanging forward allowing myself to become as still as possible. The slamming echo of the lovers pulsing blood had begun to ease slowly but the bitter taste of venom still saturated every part of my mouth.

The creature within me crept silently under my skin. I could feel the muscles in my body tense as it twisted and contorted around me, polluting my every limb, sinew and bone with its relentless craving. I suddenly heard a loud cry, almost like an animal, pained and desperate and realised miserably that it was coming from me.

I wanted to cry. _Real_ tears. Sob till my body ached, but that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

I slammed my fists down into the snow, feeling the ground beneath it give easily like a sledgehammer on glass, lifting my head and crying out again. Maybe I was not far from the truth before; maybe I really was going insane.

It was then that I heard him. Slightly rambling, drunk maybe?

It wasn't uncommon to see drunken people meandering around at this time of night. With liquor being illegal, it was the only time that the people who wanted to lose themselves in alcohol felt safe enough to do so, without fear of prosecution. I couldn't smell him yet but it wouldn't be long before I did. My mind reading and my sense of smell had very similar radius' allowing me to protect myself two-fold from the regular bombardment of scents and voices.

I saw him and smelt him at the same time. A tall man, smartly dressed in double breasted wool coat, pin striped cotton trousers and shiny black leather shoes that suggested bank manager. His smell was a cacophony of scents including musk, soap, tobacco, sweat and alcohol that came off him in plumes with every movement he made. He was walking towards me, concentrating very hard on putting one foot in front of the other. He hadn't seen me sat seemingly invisible leaning against the old oak tree.

The venom leaked from the back of my throat, lubricating my teeth that could bite through skin, muscle and tendons like a knife through butter. I rested the back of my head slowly against the tree, watching the stranger approach, closer and closer still, completely oblivious to the danger that lurked in the shadows.

But I couldn't move. My body was rigid, my muscles taut, pulling to the right and the left, straining from one side of my body to other, almost moulding me to the trunk of the tree I was leaning on. I swallowed the venom down hard, making room for the torrent that followed it, my fists holding on to the grass, soil and snow for dear life.

His scent hit me like a bulldozer as he lost his footing and ended up sprawled on his hands and knees not twenty feet from me.

_Fuck!_

It took me a moment to realise he had thought and shouted the same thing at the same time. I sucked in a quick breath, relieved to find that he had not broken the skin anywhere on his body. That would have decided this man's fate for him without question or consultation. My head cart-wheeled, spinning with the overwhelming urge to kill, against the image of Carlisle's face that had gradually become seared into my brain.

_Stupid fucking shoes! Stupid fucking snow!_

The man was now on his knees trying to fathom how to raise himself off the ground without falling again. I frowned as I listened to his thoughts over the mumblings and incoherent sounds that were coming from his mouth. The tones of them were sharp, almost aggressive in their severity. He had a lot of hate within him, anger even. This would explain the drunken stupor I thought to myself. That's what humans did wasn't it; drown their sorrows?

_That stupid bitch…_

That brought me up short, holding my attention more than the other thoughts that slipped from his subconscious.

_My hand still hurts from this morning…stupid bitch…Carl you've broken jaw she says…_

I was aggravated with the time it took him to form an even partially coherent thought, but my aggravation was slowly being pushed aside by an overwhelming sense of dread and hatred towards the stranger on his knees. I couldn't understand why, I couldn't seem to be able to think clearly with my body as tightly wound as it was. I heard him laugh.

_Well seeing as my hand's sore already she won't mind if I test out her broken jaw theory… _

He laughed again. My head rose slowly from its resting place on the tree, my mind becoming gradually more focused, more controlled. I took in another deep breath, the scent of his blood rearing above all the others, a deep, warm aroma that scraped down my throat into my lungs.

_Maybe if she just did as she was fucking told I wouldn't have to break her jaw…_

The words spun around my head. I tried to detect any sort of remorse, regret, any hatred that was directed internally, but all I heard were the desperate, pleading screams of a young blonde woman as his fist smashed into her face over and over again, the vision in his thoughts replaying continually on a loop and with each loop his thoughts became more grotesque, more monstrous and more satisfied.

_Stupid bitch…she asks for it…every time…maybe I should do what Mick says and put her out of her misery…_

His continued scent soaked chuckle filled the otherwise silent park as he lifted himself to his feet. It echoed off the surrounding trees till it reached me, kicking its way down my spine, unlocking every nerve, every muscle, and every tendon until I transformed fully into the monster I had suppressed for so long. My eyes became wide taking in every aspect of my surroundings, of the man in front of me.

My prey.

My breathing was so smooth and controlled that I couldn't help but take a moment to feel the overwhelming sense of calm that rippled through my body. The calm before the inevitable storm I thought wryly. I felt my legs lift me to an upright position and the snow fall off me silently to the floor.

I was on auto-pilot, the monster taking full control.

The equally monstrous being in front of me had still not noticed my presence, dusting himself off, the screaming blonde girl still whirling round his sick mind, her pleading face becoming more and more bloodied, adding to my already intensely desperate thirst. I felt a growl rumble in my chest and I felt myself move forward, slowly and silently.

I was a foot away from him when he spun around to face me, his intoxicated eyes taking a minute to focus on the blackest depths of mine. His breath came out in a violent exhalation covering me with his sour, lemon-like breath. I could hear his heart increase dramatically and his pupils dilate as he took me in. I smiled as I took a deep breath of the scent of his blood that now hammered around his body. It smelt so warm, so inviting.

This creature couldn't, shouldn't be allowed to exist. I was the only one that could put a stop to the torture and cruelty that he was capable of. Saving her by killing him seemed like a fair deal to me. He remained frozen in front of me, the skin on his face taking on a slight green tinge. I cocked my head to the right and raised an eyebrow, feeling more powerful than I ever thought possible. He was afraid. No, he was petrified. I had turned the tables on him and he now knew what it was like to look into the eyes of someone who could spare or take his life.

Unfortunately for him, I thought wryly, it would be the latter.

'W-what do you want?' he stumbled over his words, not through drunkenness but through terror. I smiled widely knowing that the faint light from the small lamps of the park would reflect against my gleaming teeth. His heart began to pummel and stutter, sweat formed at his hairline.

'I don't have any money,' he patted his jacket, bringing out the lining of his pockets to prove his statement. My smile remained as I heard him urgently consider all his escape options, his thoughts raged around like a roulette table, punching me, running, punching me and then running, screaming for help; the list went on.

I placed my hand on his shoulder and took another step towards him, bringing my face to within an inch of his. 'You can't run Carl, so don't even try.'

Before his face had time to react I grabbed his jacket and pushed against him with all my strength to the oak I had been leaning on, the air erupted from his chest as his back hit the bark. His eyes were wild, rolling in their sockets, trying to fathom where he was and what was happening. I grabbed at his head thrusting it to his right, exposing the vein that danced in his neck, calling to me, willing me to take it, I growled with anticipation, my breathing hitched.

My father suddenly penetrated my focus, with each blink of my eyes I saw his face, heard his voice, calm, full of love, not an ounce of disappointment, wanting me to turn and go home. My grip on Carl's neck loosened ever so slightly, my muscles slackened infinitesimally. The fiend in my hands noted the hesitation just long enough to loose control and let the image of the bloodied, broken, blonde girl surge from his thoughts, slamming into mine head on.

And that was all it took.

I bit into his neck, my left hand closed over his mouth to muffle the animalistic cry that came from his throat.

The blood surged into my mouth like a river and my eyes rolled into the back of my head.

It _was_ warm. _So_ warm, rich, dark, a sweet narcotic that coated my throat like a warm blanket. It was luxuriant, soft and creamy and I never wanted it to end. The demon within me rejoiced, bathing in the exquisite flood that swelled through my body. Every muscle in my body twisted and strained against my granite skin, holding onto him tighter and tighter. I clamped my jaw down harder on his throat, feeling his body crumble under the pressure, his pleadings and attempts at escape dwindled with every lap I took. The need for more was indescribable; I felt the bone in his left arm splinter in my grip as I tried in vain to get more from him.

But there was no more.

I threw my head back and roared, letting his lifeless, drained body slump to the ground. I couldn't catch my breath and I was sure I could hear the echo of my dead heart slamming in my chest. I closed my mouth and let my breaths heave through my nose, my shoulders lifting and dropping violently with every one.

I looked to my feet to see his hand resting on my shoe, his eyes still wide and terrified. He wouldn't hurt that girl again. He wouldn't hurt anyone ever again. I had seen to that, taken my 'gift' and turned it against an equally heinous beast. My breathing began to slow and my body gradually relaxed. I paused and looked down at myself, bringing my hands to my face, absurdly wanting to examine my palms and fingers. I had used my 'gift' the way I had wanted.

I had taken my own path, made my own choice. I should _feel _something, I thought.

Better at least? Content? Grateful?

But as I looked from my hands, to the snow covered trees, to the lake in the moonlight, listening to the deafening silence, back to the body at my feet, I quickly realised that the only thing I felt was alone.

**This was more difficult to write than I expected. It was hard seeing Edward like this but I think it worked? Right? *gets out double plated armour***

**Please let me know what you think by leaving a review – I would love to continue on with this and I'd love for you to come with me!!**

**TTFN x x x **


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks again for all your comments – it seems like people are liking the story so far so I'm gonna keep going with it! Yey!**

**All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer – lucky her!!**

**Chapter 3: Fight of Flight**

**EPOV**

Three days had passed.

72 hours since I had made a choice. The choice.

To stop denying what I am and do what needed to be done.

I had killed a man.

A man in the loosest possible sense of the word. He was as much a monster as I. But unlike me he was proud of the destruction he had caused to the lives of much weaker individuals. He had gloated, felt satisfied with the way he dominated others, enjoyed the satisfaction of seeing fear in the eyes of the people that he hunted. So I had turned the tables. Made him feel fear, made him beg for mercy and ignored it for my own gains, taking what my body wanted and discarding his lifeless body like a dry chicken bone.

I had left his body in the park, after making it look like he had been the victim of a mugging gone awry – it happens all the time – no one would think any different, why would they? Vampires don't exist, right?

I had stayed in the park till sunrise, replaying in my head what I had done over and over. Reliving the unbelievable sensations that I'd felt as the blood had invaded my body, slithering into every part of my vampire core, making me feel fierce, strong and so far removed from human that I didn't recognise one part of myself. I couldn't deny that I felt satisfied, not through the means in which I got what I needed, but through the blood itself. I felt calm almost whole and, truthfully, it scared me to death.

How would I ever be able to go back to hunting animals, knowing the taste of human blood? How could I deny my body ever again after letting it rejoice in the dark, rich liquid that I'd refused for so long? How would I ever look at Carlisle again, knowing what I did, knowing that I had gone against everything that he had taught me and stood for?

After considering all the options that were open to me I realised, as I watched the grey snow clouds over the city become lighter, that the answer was simple.

I couldn't.

I had made my choice and I had to live with it. Face what I was and what I needed and find peace with it. Carlisle would have to understand that I couldn't follow his lead anymore. I wasn't and never would be as strong as he is, to live a life abstaining from the one thing that my body craved the most and now that I had experienced what it was like first hand I knew, deep down, that there was no going back.

So I hadn't. I had roamed the dark streets of Chicago, retreating into attics and abandoned buildings when the sun chose to shine, hiding away so that my skin would not defy me by exposing my true self.

Creeping and skulking around I had begun to learn more about how my body could _really_ move. My muscles felt firmer, tighter, my bones felt solid even more indestructible than before. I was becoming fascinated by how very silent and still I could really be, it seemed that by relinquishing my body to human blood it had woken the more subtle vampire facets of myself and I felt powerful. I seemed faster, stronger, more in tune with my mind reading, hearing internal voices at distances I never knew I was capable of, even allowing myself to relax slightly when I was hiding away, knowing that I would hear someone a long time before they even realised I was there.

It hit me late on the second day that I needed more. I had found my drug and I was addicted. I hated the taking of life, I hated that that was what I had to resort to, to get my fix, but I had no choice. I needed the high, the rush of feeling the blood take me over. I had handed the reigns of myself over to the darkness within me and there was no compromise. It needed blood.

I left the confines of the small, disused room through the broken window in which I had entered and jumped the four storeys to the ground below, my legs holding me, sturdy, bending with the impact that I barely registered. It was just dark and the streets had begun to empty. Yet the sounds of the city encased my head like a vice, a loud mixture of internal worries and external niceties.

I walked slowly taking in the scents that pummelled my chest, the dirt, grit and sweat of daily life. The smell of human food snaked around me from under the door of a café on the main street, making me wince at the sour, repugnant odours that resonated into my nose. I turned my head towards the café in disgust, trying to decipher what creature would happily eat food that had such an excruciating smell, feeling oddly nauseous.

And there he was.

He wasn't hard to find. I could hear his thoughts over everything else, dangerous, seething, vitriolic thoughts that were directed towards the woman in front of him. I stopped walking and leaned against the café's outside wall, seeing his expressions and actions towards her through her thoughts as if I had my face pressed up against the glass window of the café. Her thoughts were frightened, upset but endearingly angry. She was not a weak person and she was determined that he wouldn't see her fear.

_Don't cry…don't let him see you cry Anna…_

I smiled at the determination of her thoughts. She was afraid, that much was very clear through the scents that she was giving off but she would not let him see it.

_Why…do I put up with this shit?_

His thoughts on the other hand were becoming more and more impatient and eerily quiet, almost like he was becoming calm in the rage that he felt. I noticed my hands curling into tight fists in agitation.

_As long as we stay in here he won't hurt me…keep him in here…don't let him get you outside…_

Her determination was wavering as the tall man took a step towards her with eyes that appeared lifeless. 'Get your ass outside, now.' His voice was low and hostile, dripping with threat but no-one in the café noticed the danger that the woman was in. Only the vampire outside had noticed that.

I remained with my back pressed against the café wall as the young woman flung open the door, with him hot on her heels his hand wedged under hers, holding her so tight that the blood was struggling to get to her hand.

'I swear to God you say one more word and your life will not be worth shit! Do you understand me?' his face was inches from her, she struggled to free her arm from his grip but failed miserably. He was just too strong for her.

Her thoughts became erratic and confused, flitting from him making love to her to holding her down and taking her in a way no woman should be, his threats, his affairs, his slaps, the punches, the promises to never do it again and then the unbelievable sense of betrayal and hurt when he did. Overwhelming all of these was the complete and utter sense of loss. She had lost herself, the man she had once loved so very long ago and her self worth. Her once beautiful face was now aged and tired and desperately lonely.

'You're hurting me Will, let me go,' Her voice was starting to shake as she pulled from him again only to be pulled back to him his mouth against her ear.

'I'll show you hurt Anna, you have no fucking idea what I'm capable of,' her heart rate increased to a hard thrum and her breath left her mouth in small ragged groans of fear.

'Please Will…,' she breathed in almost a whisper, knowing that they had come to the point she was most afraid of, 'I'm sorry…,' he didn't let her finish, pulling her by the same arm over the road, towards the dark alley behind the Katz Theatre.

I pushed myself off the wall and followed, keeping my eyes on the couple as they disappeared into the darkness. I could see what he planned to do as he filed through his head, the best way to keep her quiet whist he had his violent, unyielding way with her. His blood pumped calmly around his body, its scent drifting back to me, flicking the switch inside me, luxuriant and warm, dark and plentiful. The venom began to spill into my mouth and I growled as my chest muscles stretched in anticipation.

I held back slightly watching from the shadows as he thrust her against the wall, a small squeak coming from her with the force of it.

'_Please_ Will…don't _please_…,' her cries were stifled by his hand that clasped over her mouth and nose, the breath struggling to get through to her lungs. He felt her body tense in panic and his heart pumped harder, he was excited by it. I took a deep breath feeling his scent fill my lungs allowing the monster to rear up and take over. I walked silently towards the grappling pair as he pushed his hand under her skirt, hearing the ripping of fabrics reverberate off the alley walls.

She noticed me first, her eyes, full of terror looked to me fluttering with a sense of relief before she sensed that I was as dangerous as the man that held her. He noticed the direction her eyes had taken and turned around, never letting his hold loosen on her. His scent hit me again in his movement, snaking its way down into my body pushing the venom up, twisting the muscles; I closed my eyes at the sensation. His heart remained steadfast and strong almost calling to me with every beat. I moved another step towards them.

'Who the fuck are you?' I was surprised to notice that his voice never altered, he was simply angry that his intentions for the girl had been disturbed by a stranger.

I didn't answer, simply taking another step through the snow, letting the blood call and letting my body respond. He turned more to face me, still holding the girl with his hand on her face.

'Hey jerk-off, I said who the fuck are you?' I smiled then at his insult, his heart reacting immediately to the expression on my face, he swallowed and I watched as the pulse in his neck made the skin lift and drop like an elegant ballet, soft in its motion, repeating over and over. I was transfixed, my body like a coiled spring, my breathing fighting its way out of my mouth, through the venom into the cold air.

His hand went to his pocket and pulled out a swish-blade, the metal gleaming momentarily from the small light at the opposite end of the alley, the metal smelt cold and I instantly detected the scent of dried blood on its tip. I growled low in my chest.

'Look pal, you either walk away now and forget everything you have seen or I go to work on you with this,' he thrust the blade forward at me, his voice still showing no sign of the fear that was starting to creep around his body making his heart rate increase. I didn't move, I was waiting for my moment. It was close; I could sense it, my skin felt like it was coming alive with the electric tension that pin-balled around me.

'You've used that before haven't you?' my voice was low and soft, my eyes never leaving his as his thoughts flittered to a young short haired man doubled over in pain the same swish-blade embedded in his chest, it was then suddenly being ripped out, wiped and placed back in 'Will's' pocket with the same disregard for life as he was demonstrating now.

He paused looking at me with a sense of apprehension.

_Is this guy a cop? I don't recognize him…how does he know…_

'No I'm not a cop,' I answered his unspoken thought watching, almost in slow motion, as he dropped his hand that was pointing the knife three millimetres down.

That was the moment.

I dove at him grabbing the hand that held the knife and twisted it, feeling his grip release as his bone snapped. I slammed him against the alley wall, almost unconscious of the girl that remained against it, frozen in fear. I looked at her, growling under my breath, 'Go!' she had to leave, there was no knowing whether once I had killed him I wouldn't turn on her, as her scent had started to surrender itself to me also, goading me towards her. She breathed in quickly before looking at the man in my arms, stilled by my intense grip, picked up her bag and fled, never looking back.

I had drunk from him, cleansing myself in his blood, finding my need for it even more than the first, the violence in me erupted pushing him harder into the wall as my teeth sunk into the flesh of his neck, feeling his ribs give under the pressure of my chest against him. It was over quicker, my desire for the blood making me drink faster, growling as I felt the last drops dribble down my throat. It had all happened in 90 seconds.

Again the loneliness hit me as I let his body slide down the wall. But my body sang with the new strength it felt as the blood soaked into me from the inside. I felt angry, hostile, realising suddenly that the blood I was drinking must carry some of the feelings of the victims into me, becoming part of me. I pushed the thought away immediately; disgusted at the mere suggestion that I was anything like the repulsive and vile creatures that I had killed.

I stood for what seemed like an eternity looking down at the man who had bravely threatened me. I suddenly felt dizzy, not in the physical sense, but my thoughts and feelings were rushing in my head at such speed that I almost had to hold onto the wall. A horrifying thought had crept into my mind and I was helpless in stopping it at as it spread through my body like a disease.

What if I _was_ like him? What if we _were_ of the same breed? We were both killers, we both hunted weaker souls and both gained satisfaction from it. The man in the park suddenly appeared in my thoughts. He was a monster too, like the man in the alley, like me.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts –_no I wasn't like them_ – they had an easier choice, they didn't _have_ to kill people to survive, they did it because they were evil and loved having the power. But I too had felt powerful, and I had liked it. The feeling that my body had become an unstoppable force was one that I hadn't shied away from; I had almost _embraced_ it, craving for more.

And I'd given in. I dropped my head glancing again at the evidence of my weakness, cold and still, my bite mark clear on his neck like a property stamp. My anger and frustration roared to the surface once again as I picked up the blade he had dropped and slammed it into his stomach; a miserable moan erupting from my mouth, he had become another victim of gang and knife violence.

I dropped to my knees feeling weak, the momentary high of the blood seemingly lost in the desperation that I felt. Why was it so hard? Why wasn't this simple? _I'm a vampire, for crying out loud I need blood, this is who I am! _I should feel better, content, grateful, I moaned again at the thought of Carlisle's face as he said these words. Eventually, my shoulders still heaving from my dry sobs, I rose to my feet, still confused by the unstable sensation in my legs, and set off running.

* * * *

I had been sat on the bench in the park looking up at the house since I had arrived 15 hours before. Three days since I'd made the choice and here I was back where I started. I saw Carlisle leave at 4am for his shift at the hospital, and Esme had left a couple of minutes later – hunting I assumed, there was plenty of wildlife in some of the bigger parks on the edges of the city and nearer the harbour. It wasn't long until she came back, surreptitiously glancing in my general direction, but never fully acknowledging me. They both knew I was here, they'd be able to smell me, if not see me.

I knew it would be at Carlisle's suggestion that she'd not talk to me. I knew she would want to, I knew that I wanted her to, but I also knew that I would never be able to look at them both in the same way. That I would be a disappointment to them. That Carlisle would feel responsible in some way. They would hide it of course, but I would forever know that I had let them down monumentally.

I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, closing my eyes imagining that it was Esme that held me, and then Carlisle, his face torn between love and regret. But I wasn't ready for Carlisle yet. I didn't know if I was ready to go back to him fully yet, I just knew that I wanted some comfort from my parents, without the guilt heaving itself over me. I pushed my head against my knees wondering when I had become so disgustingly selfish. I banged my head against my knee willing the answers to come to me in a moment of clarity.

But they never did.

I couldn't take it any more; I left the bench and ran to the back of the house, looking up at my bedroom window. I smiled weakly when I realised that they hadn't closed it, it remained open from when I had leapt from it, when I had snapped with the conflict within me. I looked around to see that the area was quiet, no voices could be heard, no scents. It was safe. I jumped from the ground, grabbing at the windowsill and slipped quietly back into my room.

I stood for a couple of seconds, my back to the room, knowing she was there, I'd smelt her the minute my feet touched the floor. I turned to face her, never lifting my eyes to hers. Esme was standing in the doorway hands clasped together under her chin, her face pained and ecstatic all at once. Her thoughts were silent, no judgement, no anger, just silence.

I finally let my eyes move to hers, instantly feeling like my legs were going to give way. 'Edward!' she whispered as she caught my face against her shoulder as I slumped to the floor, the realisation of the past three days gouging pieces out of me. I was a killer, I was selfish, and I had become a monster and enjoyed it. I knew all these things but more unbelievably I still didn't know if I could turn away from it, now that I had experienced it and come back to Carlisle and Esme, to come home and be _their_ Edward again.

All the fear, anger, guilt and frustration continued to slam inside my head as I put my arms around my mother as tightly as I could and sobbed.

**Oh poor Edward! **

**I wanted this chapter to be a little more violent (man in the alley) than the last one, to show Edward losing his grip on himself – hope that's ok?**

**I hope you like this – it's fairly dark and intense – but hey that's Edward!**

**Please leave me your thoughts in a little review, button is just there! **

**TTFN x x x x x x**


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